


Desperation

by twinsarein



Series: Reasons [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Car Sex, Inappropriate use of a car, Masturbation, PWP, UST, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-05
Updated: 2010-05-05
Packaged: 2017-10-09 08:11:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/84924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinsarein/pseuds/twinsarein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam gets his wish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desperation

Sam can’t believe he’s out in the Impala again with the intention of getting off. It’s gotten to the point that he can’t get it up anywhere else. At least not without a lot of work involved, and even then the result is so weak-assed as to not be worth it.

No, any good orgasm he has these days comes when he’s in the car with his hand on the gearshift. He’s even taken to wearing a butt plug to stretch himself out, even though he knows nothing can come of it.

Sometimes his fantasy is simple and he just imagines the ’67 to suddenly become a 2010 model so the gearshift would be workable. Sometimes it’s a lot more complex, where he actually imagines doing something to Dean’s baby so that they have to get a more modern rental. He only thinks that when he’s really desperate to come, though, because Dean would kill him when he found out. And he always finds out.

Once he started really thinking about that gearshift, about how it would be to get off with it, his Pavlovian response to the spray bottle had switched without a qualm. All he has to do to get hard now is head out to the Impala on his own. And, if he inserts a plug in the morning, he’s automatically half-hard all day.

Sliding into the passenger side seat, Sam runs a hand over the dashboard in front of him. He’s not sure how he feels about the fact that he looks forward to this, and that he doesn’t even bother to look for a lover these days.

He just doesn’t have the energy or the desire anymore to go looking for a woman when he knows they’ll be bugging out the next day, or possibly dead, or a meat suit. Yeah, it’s hard to get interested when all of that’s hanging over you.

Besides, the way he’s been fantasizing about impaling himself, he’s not sure it’s a woman he needs anymore anyway. But, he hasn’t explored those thoughts too closely. He’s not ready for a change like that yet, not with so much upheaval in the rest of his life.

Shaking his head to violently to dispel the melancholy thoughts, Sam slouches down in his seat and lifts his hips to get rid of his pants and underwear. The motel they’re at is kept up better than most they stay at, so he hadn’t bothered with shoes, or a shirt actually.

Arranging his legs into his favorite position - his left foot on the driver’s seat and his right on the floor in front of him - Sam reaches down to grasp the slightly protruding butt plug. Staring at the gearshift, he moves the plug in and out a few times.

It feels good, but he wants to much more than the smooth plastic. He wants texture dragging against the sensitive inner walls of his ass. Sam wonders is there are plugs out there that would simulate what he wants better. Thinking about it gets him even hornier, so, he gets a little lube from the pocket of his discarded jeans and spreads a little on his left hand. It’s easier to work the plug with his right.

Reaching down, Sam wraps his huge hand around his cock and starts pulling slowly. He’d made sure Dean was deeply asleep before he’d come out. Given the life they lead, Sam’s never been sure how his big brother can sleep so soundly.

Shaking his head quickly from side to side again, Sam banishes thoughts of his brother. Thinking of his brother while he’s wanking of is certainly not a place he’s prepared to go. That’s the purview of his sleeping mind.

Locking his eyes on the gearshift he can see between his legs, Sam’s strokes get faster on his cock. Groaning deeply, he reaches for the plug and starts moving it in sync with his other hand. Breath speeding up, Sam lays his head back against the seat, slitting his eyes so he can be focused on that gearshift and on what he’s making his body feel.

“Looking good, Sam. What would your brother say if he knew what you were doing out here?”

Sam bumps his head into the roof of the Impala he jumps so badly. Swinging around he reaches for Crowley’s throat.

Crowley slides on the backseat to the other side of the car. “Ah ah, Sam. No touching. I know what those hands have been doing and where they’ve been, after all.”

Sam growls at him, lips twisting into a snarl and eyes glaring daggers he wishes were demon killers. “What the hell do you want, Crowley?”

“Sam...Sammy, can I call you Sammy?”

“Fuck no! If that’s all, get the hell out of here.”

Crowley holds up placating hands, but Sam can see it for the mocking gesture it is. “Hell is a place I’m trying to stay out of, Sam. You know that. As to what I want...just to show you that I’m on your side. I’m tired of you trying to kill me every other minute.”

Sam clenches his hands into fists, but doesn’t lunge for the demon again. No sense to look as impotent as he feels. “I can make it every minute, if you prefer.”

The bastard just smiles. “Nice one, Sam. Your years at Sanford are shining through with the brilliance of that comeback.”

“Fuck you!”

“No, that isn’t the plan, Sam. I’m not the one wanting to get fucked. With my little gift, however, perhaps you’ll be a little less volatile and a little more willing to work with me.”

“What are you blathering...” Sam breaks off and follows Crowley’s pointing finger. His breathing hitches when he finally sees what Crowley’s done. There, in the middle of the floorboards, is a modern day gearshift, not the t-shaped one that the ’67 Impala had been built with.

Sam’s heart rate speeds up and his cock twitches and swells even harder at just the sight. He feels precome sliding down his cock and hears a small whimper escape unbidden from his mouth. He bites his lip to keep any more telling sounds from eluding his control.

Suddenly, Crowley’s voice is right in his ear, and it’s a testament to how far gone he already is, that he doesn’t take his eyes off the car’s newest feature. “So, do you want it, Sam? Do you want my gift? The gearshift is on offer for one night only. If you don’t take me up on it now, it’ll disappear.”

Sam swallows hard and fights to get some control back, but he wants it too much. He thought he’d gotten stronger than this since Ruby, but apparently not strong enough. “You going to watch?”

Sam can hear the smirk in the demon’s voice, even though he still doesn’t turn his head to look at him. “There’s always a price with a gift from a demon, Sam. Not that you turn me on, but the chance to see the great Sam Winchester reduced to fucking a car. That isn’t something I’m going to miss. And, I know you’re ready; I know what you have inside of you right now. I know--”

Sam throws his head back and he can feel the demon’s nose crunch against his skull. He smiles viciously as Crowley curses, but the jarring sounds in his usually quite time doesn’t stop Sam from reaching out and running a finger along the bulbous head of the car’s newest piece of equipment.

Of course, he knows that the injury won’t slow the demon down at all, but it’s satisfying nonetheless. His stomach twists at the thought of the show he’s going to put on for the sonofabitch, but that isn’t going to stop him from doing it. He’s wanted it for what feels like forever. Since seeing the transformed gearshift, he hasn’t really been thinking, anyway, just reacting.

Slowly, Sam reaches for the lube again and smears a liberal amount on his palm. Reaching out, he rubs it over the flared head of the gearshift. He’s almost in a trance-like state as the rough leather scrapes across his hand.

Shivering, Sam’s touch slows, and he starts running his hand up and down, twisting on every stroke up to make sure each millimeter is covered. His motions are almost like how he’d touched his cock earlier.

Sam likes how the bulbous head is curved back a little, and he almost has to start thinking again, to decide on how he wants to lower himself over it. Impatience takes over, however, so he slides off the seat and works his way around until he’s kneeling on the floor, straddling the stick shift, and facing the dashboard.

It isn’t the most comfortable position to be in - his legs are almost bent in half, so his heels are only inches from his ass and the top of one foot is resting on the passenger side seat and the other is on the driver’s side seat. The position lets him line up his ass right above the gearshift, though, so he can live with the discomfort.

It has the added benefit of placing Crowley out of his line of sight. Even better, however, is Sam knows that with the angle of the head, it’ll press against his prostate every time he thrusts down and pulls back up.

Taking a deep breath and holding it, Sam eases the butt plug out of his ass, and without hesitating, lowers himself onto the gearshift before his anal muscles can contract. Even being loose and open, Sam still has to push himself down hard before it pops past the ring of muscle and into his body.

As the outer rim of his ass closes around the thickest part of the car’s, Sam has to stop and take several deep breaths so he doesn’t immediately shoot his load. Spreading his arms out, the span between his hands encompassing the entire dashboard, Sam hangs his head and counts to ten.

He hears a noise behind him and knows that Crowley is commenting, but he can’t make out the words through the buzz of arousal reverberating in his skull. Ignoring the irrelevant sounds, Sam starts to move.

He can feel the head inside of him, and as it slides past his prostate, Sam jerks and moans as fireworks obscure his vision. Coming back to himself, Sam slowly lowers his body until he can feel his balls brushing the base of the shaft he’s fucking. Then, he just as slowly straightens his knees so that the gearshift slides back up his passage.

As it moves over his prostate again, Sam goes too fast and the shaft almost leaves his body. He can feel it stretching his hole and the burning makes him shudder and moan some more.

Each thrust up and down stretches him out more, and soon it’s moving smoothly in and out of him. The only sounds he can hear are his own harsh breaths, the occasional moan, and the squelch of the lube inside of him as he fucks himself.

Every pass, up or down, presses into his prostate just as he thought, but throughout his sensitive passage the rough leather sends pleasure shooting through him. Speeding up, he takes his right hand off the dashboard and reaches between his legs to grasp his cock. He doesn’t move his hand, just provides a tight tunnel for it to slip through as he moves.

The added stimulation is too much. Shudders wrack his entire body as he starts to come, but he doesn’t stop moving. He’s on automatic pilot at this point and it feels too good to stop. His seed spills over his hand and the squelching sounds get louder as the come coats his cock it fucks into the tunnel he created.

Leaning forward, the dashboard supports him as he finally begins to slow his thrusts. Stilling completely, Sam slumps forward and rests his head on the dash, all but gulping for breath. After a couple of minutes, Sam lifts up carefully. It isn’t carefully enough, however, to prevent more shudders from flowing through his body as the angled head slides over his stimulated prostate and stretches him wide one more time before popping out.

Shivering in reaction, Sam can’t believe that for once he got exactly what he wanted. That just doesn’t happen to the Winchesters. The Impala’s gearshift had felt as he’d thought it would, the orgasm had been just as intense, it had filled him to capacity and beyond.

Only...now that it was over, as good as it had felt, he still feels empty, an emptiness he hadn’t even been aware of until now. Or, let himself be aware of. The intense orgasm had stripped him of his usual defenses, however. Trouble is, he knows what he really wants, what he’s always wanted, but nothing will ever happen. He’d tried to substitute a car...his car...but nothing could take Dean’s place... “Damn it.” The whispered epithet is no less heartfelt for its quietness.

“Something wrong, Sam?”

Stiffening, Sam doesn’t bother turning around to face the demon he knows is gloating. It doesn’t make Sam feel any better to know that Crowley has plenty of reason to. “Fuck off. You got your jollies and the show is over.”

“Sam, Sam, Sam. Is that any way to talk to the being that granted you a wish almost free of charge? That was surprisingly sexier than I thought it would be. I can see why Lucifer has a hard on to get into your body. Still, I don’t want to overstay my welcome. See you around, lover boy.”

Twisting around in rage, Sam knows he’s going to be too slow. Sure enough, the backseat is empty. Sam sighs and plants his still bare ass back in the seat he’d started the night in. Running his hands through his hair, Sam tries to banish the feeling of emptiness and sadness that seems to be a perpetual part of his existence now.

Scratching his still bare chest, Sam pulls on his jeans, sans underwear, and grabs the wipes he’d brought with him to clean up his mess. Leaning forward to clean the dashboard, he looks down to see if anything on the floorboards needs cleaning.

Eyes widening, Sam freezes as he’s wiping a small splatter of come off the cassette deck. “Crowley! Crowley, you sonofabitch! Get back here and change it back!”

Slumping down in his seat when there’s no response, except for maybe a faint hint of laughter, Sam stares at the gearshift that is too modern for this car. “Fuck! Dean is going to have a cow.”﻿


End file.
